Fluff and Other Drugs
by FullMetalCrayon
Summary: A collection of fluffy Steve/Tony drabbles. 4. "All in all, Stark Naked is not such a bad band name. But Big Daddy for an alias is terrible."
1. The One With the Cottonball Tail

It's my birthday soon, so I wanted to write a fic where Tony is as childish and enthusiastic about his as I am.

:D Enjoy!

* * *

"I want a dog for my birthday!"

Steve blinked and yawned loudly, reluctantly pulling his eyes away from the newspaper before him to look up at Tony, who was way too perky for six o'clock in the morning. Steve gave one look at Tony's expectant, happy face, and groaned.

This was going to be one hell of a fight.

After a few more gulps of coffee and yawns, Steve looked up at Tony (who was practically humming with energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet and a smile spread across his face, waiting) and Steve sighed, loudly.

"No."

Tony looked crestfallen for a moment before pulling his lips together in a pout. "But, _Steve_," he whined, crossing his arms childishly, "All the other kids have one!"

Steve would've laughed if it hadn't been so early in the morning. Instead, he just settled for sighing, wondering why out of all the people in the world he fell in love with such a brilliant, overgrown five year old.

"_No_, Tony. We're not nearly here enough to give a dog the proper care it needs. Who do you expect to take care of it when we're in Europe attending press conferences? JARVIS?"

Tony paused for a minute, then looked hopeful. "I could program him to-"

Steve rubbed the back of hands over his face and tried to be patient. "Tony, no, I'm sorry. We can't get a dog. For heaven's sake, our room in on the thirtieth floor! When it needed to go outside at night, are _you_ going to walk down thirty flights of stairs?"

That was the exactly wrong thing to say, and Steve knew it as soon as Tony lit up like a string of Christmas lights. The man seemed on the verge of squealing in delight, and even Steve, in his half-asleep stupor, found it very cute that Tony was getting this worked up over a dog.

(No matter how much Tony denied it, he loved animals.)

(It was another thing Steve loved about him, his hidden weaknesses.)

"Well, for a long time now, I've been wanting to renovate a balcony…I could make it into a patio garden! With real grass and trees and stuff and the puppy could go play there when we couldn't take it for walks! I'd feed it and walk it and it could sleep in my bed with me at night-"

Steve snorted. "There's no room in _our_ bed for an animal. You take up too much space."

Tony looked temporarily insulted. "Like you can talk, Mr. I'm ninety-eight percent muscle mass. Anyway! Fine, I'll build it a special super-awesome pet bed with interactive holograms and everything! Please, Steve, _pleeaaaassseeeee_?"

It was the last long, overly-enunciated please that did Steve in. He started laughing, a deep laugh that budded from inside his chest and left him grinning. "Tony, you are such a little kid."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Are not!"

"Are too-"

"Sirs, for the safety of yourself and others, I respectfully ask you quit childishly bickering or I'm going to set off the fire sprinklers."

Steve jumped about five feet in the air out of his chair at the table when JARVIS came over the intercom. He wasn't used to the whole my-boyfriend-has-a-robot-that-talks-from-the-ceiling thing, not just yet.

(He figured he'd have all the time in the world to adapt, though, so he wasn't worried.)

Tony smirked. "Hey, JARVIS, you agree that because I am a wonderful, devilishly handsome, brilliant upstanding member of society I should get to have a dog for my birthday, right?"

"Well, actually, sir-"

Tony growled then, a low sound pooling in his throat, looking up at the ceiling in a glare. "I swear, JARVIS, if you disagree with me, I'm going to upload porn of myself to your files and make you watch it forever on repeat."

JARVIS made a horrified groaning sound and Steve looked terrified. "You- you have _porn_? _Of yourself_?"

Tony took a couple steps closer to Steve, elbowing him and whispering breathlessly in his ear, "Not yet, I don't…but you could help me make some."

Steve turned bright red and hissed, "JARVIS is listening!"

Tony just smiled and ghosted his lips over Steve's ear, nibbling a little, teasing, causing Steve to inhale sharply and hold his breath. Steve hated that Tony could do this to him, with just a few little touches, make him into some puddle of desire.

Tony knew what he could do, too, and used it to his advantage. Steve was too preoccupied with Tony's lips on his throat to notice what Tony was trying to do before he drew back, nestling his nose into Steve's hair and whispered, "Can I have a dog _now_?"

Steve grumbled. "No, Tony," he finally said, after several more kisses made their way down his throat. "We're just too busy."

Tony went back to pouting but began to fiddle with the button's on Steve's civilian clothes. "JARVIS agrees that I should get one, though," he reasoned, ignoring the AI'S indignant snort, "And he's a robot. You wouldn't want to upset the resident robot, would you, Cap?"

"I don't think JARVIS is going to kill me in my sleep." (He hoped.) JARVIS made a sort of snorting sound again.

Tony cocked an eyebrow but didn't say anything, leaning forward over Steve's back so he could run a hand up his thigh. "You're sure?" He asked, eyes dark and twinkling, when he left a hand resting at the very top of Steve's thigh, watching the other man squirm.

Steve cleared his throat and tried to speak without his voice quivering. He was really, really, _really_ turned on. Which made this difficult.

"I'm sure."

Steve thought he heard Tony grumble a soft d_amn_ before he pulled away, making to leave the kitchen. "Fine! You're no fun anyway," he heard Tony mutter before he stalked out into the hallway.

With Tony gone, and Steve painfully aroused, he looked at his (now soggy) cornflakes in disdain and decided to try and focus on his newspaper, like he had been calmly reading before Tony came in and rudely interrupted.

He flipped through a couple pages, skimming the articles, when he sees a picture of a bunny on one of the pages, being held by a dark-haired little boy.

"Huh," he said, staring at the page, as an idea started to form in the back of his mind.

* * *

"JARVIS?" Steve asked hesitantly, looking up at the ceiling and speaking in what he hoped the AI perceived as a polite. (Tony designed him, after all, so while that meant it wasn't likely that JARVIS would turn evil and brutally kill him, it was always a possibility.)

(He blamed Bruce for showing his some video clip about an evil robot named Glados.)

"Mr. Rogers, sir," JARVIS answered, tone clipped and professional like a real butler's would be. "Do you require assistance?"

"Tony didn't…didn't load inappropriate things into your files, did he?" Steve asked, fiddling with the bag in his hands, pausing to reach in and stroke the animal when the bag quivered.

The AI laughed, an action Steve thought was strange, coming from a robot. (Sometime, Steve almost forgot JARVIS wasn't a real person, with the way he reacted to things. Tony truly was a brilliant programmer.)

"No, sir. You two haven't had time to take any yet," JARVIS replied, sounding slightly amused.

The tips of Steve's ears turned red again. "You don't…you don't watch us a_ll_ the time, do you, JARVIS?"

JARVIS only beeped in amusement. It figures that Tony's robots would be perverts.

"Anyway, where is Tony? I've got something for him."

"He's down in the lab, sir. And I sincerely hope you didn't get him a puppy."

It was Steve's turn to laugh. "Don't worry, JARVIS. I'm not stupid."

Steve stepped into the elevator and JARVIS automatically selected the floor number for Tony's lab. As the doors dinged open onto the bottom floor, Steve's ears were roughly assaulted by what he could only describe as a chainsaw accompanied by bad drumming and yelling.

"JARVIS, please," he begged to the AI. JARVIS beeped in amusement again before changing Tony's music to a kid's soundtrack.

Steve grinned at Tony_'s _exasperated, "Hey!" and whispered a thank-you to JARVIS, before stepping to the lab to see a very annoyed Tony fiddling with his stereo, muttering something about choking motherboards and stupid robots.

"Happy birthday to you."

Tony started at the sound of Steve's voice, before turning around in excitement. Upon seeing the bag in Steve's hands, he put on a mock frown, saying, "Aww, I was hoping it was going to be you all wrapped up. Preferably naked, also."

Steve didn't even bother to look horrified, just sighed and handed his crude boyfriend the bag. "Happy birthday."

Tony looked up at Steve, his face soft. "My birthday isn't until next week. I didn't mean to pressure you into getting me something- unless, of course, that something is a dog, then I totally did want to pressure you- but seriously, you didn't have to get me anything."

Steve smiled as Tony jumped again when the bag rustled.

"Look inside."

Tony did as he was instructed, looking in and then taking a deep breath. After a minute of silence, he looked back up at Steve, grinning so wide it looked like his face would split in half.

"You got me a _bunny!_" Steve was not prepared for the impact when Tony through himself at him, wrapping his arms around Steve and earnestly nuzzling into his throat. "I can't believe this! I love it! Thank you thank you thank you! It's not exactly a puppy but its' .fluffy! How did you know I loved bunnies!"

Steve laughed and put his arms around Tony, drawing him in closer. "Wild guess. You're welcome. Even if you are an overgrown child."

Tony purred contentedly in Steve's arms, pressing his lips to the soft skin of Steve's throat. "I love you, you know," he whispered, leaving a tender kiss against the pale skin.

Steve just buried his face his Tony's hair, the words not sinking in.

They stood like that for a few more seconds, before Tony jumped back like he'd been shocked with a wide-eyed look, mumbling something about "Bunnies! Right! I should take it out of the bag. I think we should name it Mackenzie. It is a her, right? Do you like that name? I like that name. It is very fitting for a bunny."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Mackenzie? Really?"

Tony looked put out. "Well, what do you suggest, then? Lassie?"

"Well.."

Tony shook his head, looking over at the black bunny sitting atop his messy workstation. Picking her up, he cradled her to his face, stroking her soft fur.

"We can name her Mackenzlie! That's fair, right? A combination of the two? Oh, thank you, Steve, I love her!"

Steve barely caught the last words as Tony was all but sprinting out of the labs, shouting something over his shoulder about "proper materials for a rabbit mansion."

He laughed, looking at the whirlwhind Tony had left as he'd riflied through all his tools. "So, appearantly now I own a bunny named Mackenzlie," he said conversationally to the ceiling, leaning up against one of Tony's many workbenches.

"A good choice, Mr. Rogers. I doubt he can cause too much trouble with a small, furry rodent." Right after the AI had finished speaking, the sound of an explosion came from down the hallway, followed by a muffled shout of "I'm okay!"

Steve just shook his head.

"You know, on second thought, you should've gotten him a cat."

"Why do you say that?" Steve questioned, curiously looking up at the ceiling. "He may or may not have just violently combusted our bunny. I don't think giving him something with claws would be healthy."

"But cats are such independent, arrogant, narcissistic creatures. Tony and cats would get on brilliantly."

Steve smiled. He really liked JARVIS, despite him being a robot. "I take it you aren't a cat robot?"

"Affirmative."

After their brief conversation, there is another explosion, and Tony skitters back down the hallway, clutching Mackenzlie in one hand and a bunch of assorted metals and woods in the other, hands covered in soot. He was also missing his eyebrows, but Steve just elects not to ask.

"Look! She's okay! I know you probably though I exploded her but I didn't. It was close but hey almost only counts when you're using grenades, right? Those were much lower grade explosives. Hey, you don't think I should still build the garden balcony, do you? I think I will so Mackenzlie can get exercise!"

Tony dithered on, running here and running there, hastily assembling something Steve hoped was a house and not a bunny-sized torture chamber. It was leaning either way at this point.

Tony kept babbling but Steve didn't mind. He loved to hear Tony talk, the man had such a way with words and he loved to watch Tony's hands flying this way and that when he got really in-depth in a subject or when he was talking very, very fast because he was nervous.

So Steve watched, and Tony talked and doted on his bunny, and Steve thought it was a wonderful pre-birthday.

* * *

It doesn't hit him why Tony was being so nervous until late that night, when they're tangled up together and in the bed sheets, one breathing mass of person. Tony was exhausted, from all his bunny-house-torture-chamber-thing building, and Steve finally convinced him to lie down and sleep for once, after they positioned Mackenzlie's hutch in the corner of their room.

Which, of course, resulted in Tony suggesting they make a porno, and Steve just laughing.

(There isn't any camera, but there probably doesn't need to be. He gave the ceiling a thumbs up during the middle of all of it and he swore he heard JARVIS laugh.)

So then, absently, as he ghosts his fingertips through Tony's hair and stifles yawns of his own, staring at the bright light of Tony's arc reactor, he feels a rush of something that he can't quite name, and he remembers.

_I love you, you know._

It's weird, Steve thinks, that such domestic words came from the mouth such a widly undomesticated man.

(Steve doesn't mind, though, and just presses his face against Tony's and breathes, "I love you, too.")

(He doesn't notice the smile on Tony's face.)

* * *

Thanks for reading!

This is going to be a collection of fluffy Steve/Tony drabbles (like this. This was supposed to be a drabble but...it kinda got away from me.) However, this certain one will most likely have two parts, since I really want to write a story about Mackenzlie the Bunny in a party hat.

Sorry for the overlyexcited!Tony. I know he's very snarky and all normally, but in my headcanon I just imagine him being really excited for birthdays. They're awesome, though, really!

Also, in my own personal little headcanon, these drabbles are basically just fluffy filler stories between Lawnchairs After Dark and the sequel, which is coming soon, I promise.

Again, thanks for reading!


	2. Alcoholic Tendencies Tomorrow

"Good morning!"

The cheerful greeting on Steve's part was met with a mutter that sounded suspiciously like "Fuck off." Rolling his eyes, Steve flipped on the overhead light and gently poked Tony's figure, who was contorted and twisted in so many ways Steve didn't even know how he even slept at all. He looked like a misshaped pretzel one might acquire from a street vendor.

"Oh, of course, last week you can get up at the crack of dawn and be chipper, but on your actual birthday, you can't. Oh well, I guess you'll miss the party then," he said conversationally, poking Tony in the ribs again, hoping the mention of a party would stir his partner. (It was a well-known fact that Tony Stark, much like a bird, loved flashy, exciting things where he was the main focus of attention. The word "party" to the man went hand in hand with the word "paradise.")

"Cool," Tony replied, burrowing his face down further into the pillow with a huff. "Now stop talking and turn off the light."

Steve just stared at Tony, a little appalled. "You're hungover, aren't you!" he cried, making sure his voice was as loud as it could be without echoing out into the hall. "But you were with me all day yesterday, and all you had was water and Coke!"

"Vodka's clear, and Coke isn't that color of brown," Tony mumbled, trying to burrow completely back under the covers. "Now go away."

Steve glared at him, feeling like a little wagging his finger in disdain. "We'll talk about your alcoholic tendencies tomorrow. But first, it's your birthday, so get up. Or I'll take the presents back to the store."

Tony lifted his head out of the covers a little. "They…got me presents?"

"Yes, but that won't matter if you don't get out of bed, you drunkard."

Pulling himself upright, Tony groaned loudly and shielded his face from the light with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other. "Give me twenty, some water, and a bottle of Tylenol."

Steve smirked and left him to it.

* * *

"I should probably be saying thank you, or something, but I'm hung-over as fuck, and if you could try not to be so loud, it would be perfect."

"Of course, Man of Iron! Fair Lady Jane has taught that the Midguardian ritual of observing the date of your birth is a great celebration for the one who was birthed!" Thor boomed, taking a swig of what Steve guessed was Asgardian ale, from the way Thor staggered about a little. "We shall take into condiseration your needs!"

Tony winced and rubbed his head. "Yeah, and don't take advice from Thor about silence. Okay, so, what did you get me?"

Steve barely resisted slapping the man, settling for a nudge in the ribs with his elbow. "Tony," he hissed, poking him again, harder this time. "Be nice. Natasha has knives."

"Um. I mean, thank you all for being here, and some other touchy feely things that Steve wants me to say," Tony hastily added, seeing that Natasha did, in fact, have a knife in a sheath. "But, about those presents.."

Steve just rolled his eyes and shrugged where Tony couldn't see him. He didn't know what he had expected when he'd started dating the man, but this was not remotely bad considering the other things he'd heard Tony say or found him doing. He was a lost cause, but the team already knew that.

Setting down his cup on top of a stereo Pepper had cut off in the corner of the room, Bruce gave a little smile and handed Tony a small, silver box. "Happy birthday. May you always be as annoying and obtuse as you currently are."

Tony grinned widely and clapped Bruce on the back. "If I ever get as.. _nice_..-he said the word like it was dirty and left a bad taste in his mouth-as Steve, just shoot me.

"Will do."

Tony kept grinning and ripped open the paper, smiling wider when it revealed a cookbook on all the different ways to prepare a cheeseburger. "I love you, Bruce, I really do."

Bruce blushed and Steve kicked Tony lightly in the shins with a "I'm _right_ here." Tony just smirked until Clint dropped down from the ceiling, landing perfectly in the middle of the table without moving a dish but nearly stopping Tony's arc reactor in the process. With an unnerving smile and surprising grace, he flipped off the table and landed perfectly in front of the birthday boy, holding out a very tiny blue bag. When Tony went to take it, however, he moved it behind his back out of his reach and snickered.

"You're only getting this if you promise to build me a place where I can sit that's up high. I hate having to hold on to the rafters."

Tony sighed. "Fine, Birdboy. I'll build you a place where you can nest."

Clint let out an outraged "I do _not _build a _nest_," but handed over the bag anyway. When Tony opened it, he found a roll of condoms.

"Make sure Steve likes the present, too," Clint said smugly, watching as the Captain's face turned beet red from embarrassment and he tried to make up an excuse to leave the room, mumbling a mile a minute about SHIELD and other duties and how he will just be a minute-

Tony grabbed his partner's arm, though, holding him in place, and laughed. "I'll be sure to keep you updated. In fact," he replied, reaching for Steve's belt, causing a chorus of "HELL NO!" to ripple through one of his many living rooms while Steve turned even redder.

"All right, all right. It can wait, I _suppose_. Who's next?"

Everyone offered up a gift- even Nick Fury, surprisingly, even though it was only the latest debriefing packet with the words Happy Birthday scrawled at the bottom- and Tony found, although half-asleep and hung over, it was one of the best birthdays yet.

When Pepper brought her gift- two amazing tickets to a band she knew Steve liked with a whisper of "For the sixth-month anniversary."- she also brought a little fluffy Mackenzlie, all dolled up with a party hat on her head.

Tony barely refrained from squealing as he snatched up his bunny and placed her on his shoulder. "Wait- how'd you guys find out about her?"

"Super spy, here," Natasha offered up from the corner of the room, looking sad at the loss of the knife from her pouch- it was her gift to Tony- with a small smile, which was such a rare sight Tony took it as a second gift all to itself.

"I adore the furry creature of yours, young Stark!" Thor boomed again, looking very sloshed, from the corner where he was currently embracing Bruce so hard it was a wonder the poor boy hadn't hulked out yet. "I will inquire where you got it from the Captain of the America later! But, now, I offer up my tribute to the celebration on behalf of my people. Happy birthday, my friend!"

Ears ringing, Tony managed to offer up a small laugh before tearing into the box Thor had thrust at him. When he opened it to find a razor, he looked up at Thor questioningly while Steve started to giggle.

"I can see by your expression you do not understand, Man of Iron! It is what you Midguardians call a razor, on behalf of Maiden Jane. She promised it would do wonders for your 'goatee situation', as she called it." Thor just looked so happy and proud of himself that Tony clapped him on the back with a grin.

"Thanks, Shakespeare. Be sure to tell Jane how much I.. _enjoyed_ it."

"I shall!"

After a several glasses of Thor's Asguardian ale (he lost count after four, it just tasted so _good_)- "It's my birthday, Steve, and anyway, you said we'd talk about the alcoholic tendencies tomorrow," Tony reminded Steve when he'd grumbled about Tony drinking- and multiple, repeated thank you's to everyone in attendance until Steve was satisfied, they sat down for cake.

"Bruce made it himself," Pepper said from across the table as she sipped on her glass of ale. "He's an astounding cook, you know."

And he really was. When Bruce reappeared from the kitchen, holding a cake with two lit candles on top- "On account of I don't know exactly how old you are, I just got put the numbers six and nine of there. I thought you appreciate that."- the team sung Happy Birthday to a rather surprised Tony, who just sat there all wide-eyed like he'd never had a proper birthday before. After finally being persuaded to make a wish and blow out the candles, Tony cut it up into pieces- the biggest for himself- and served it, instantly almost moaning at the taste.

'Sweet Jesus, Bruce, this is amazing. How did you know I loved red velvet?"

Steve just looked at Bruce and smiled, giving him a thumbs up over Tony's shoulder.

"I must agree with Stark! This delicacy is second only to the popped tarts!" Thor cried, shoving the whole slice in his mouth at once.

"Yeah, great job, Bruce. You should teach Tony how to cook sometime," Pepper added, after getting over her revulsion from Thor chewing with his mouth open.

(They gave Mackenzlie a little piece, who nibbled on it so cutely even Natasha let out a little "aww.)

"Better than Mom used to make," Steve tacked on with a bit of nostalgia. The whole team finished congratulating Bruce on his adept baking skills, who for his part just blushed.

"Seriously, though. Thanks, guys. This is a great party," Tony said, waving his fork around in the air to demonstrate his point. 'I'm really grateful."

(All the team members except Thor stared in amazement and Tony dug back into the cake with a tiny smile on his face. They didn't know what Steve had done to make Tony so polite, but they were shocked.)

(The great Tony Stark never said thank you, except apparently when he did.)

When they were done eating, each of the team members started to slowly trickle away, going off to do whatever they did when Tony didn't bother to check on them. After Thor gave a booming goodbye and Pepper bent down to hug Tony and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, it was just Tony and Steve and all the dirty paper plates and empty ale glasses.

"JARVIS? Please begin cleanup, because I'm a lazy bastard and it's my birthday."

"Of course, sir."

As JARVIS clicked several robots to life who began the task of emptying the contents of one of Tony's many dining tables into a trashbag while Steve watched in strange fascination, Tony got up and plopped down on one of his plush couches, burying the side of his face in the armchair and clutching Mackenzlie, who was still wearing her party hat. "God, you made me so _domestic_," Tony whined to Steve, who had turned from watching the robots to smile at Tony in amusement. "I don't think I've ever said thank you as much as I just did."

As Tony cooed to the bunny and lovingly stroked the side of her cheek, Steve just watched. "Well, you bring out the worst in me, so I suppose it balances out," he replied mildly, getting up to sit down beside Tony and give the bunny a little scratch. "But you haven't gotten your birthday present from me, yet, so make sure you have at least one thank- you left."

Tony cracked open an eye and pointed to the bunny he was cuddling. "I thought this was my birthday present?"

"No. Well, yes and no. It was one of them."

Tony sat up and placed Mackenzlie on his head for safe carrying, like a fluffy little helmet. "Don't make me wait for it! What is it?"

Steve pushed Tony back down onto the couch in a laying position, taking not to hurt the bunny. "No, you. Sit there and be quiet for once. I'll be back in a minute."

"But _Steeeeeveeeeee!_"

"Be right back. Stay!"

Tony rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out, pretending to pant like a dog. "Do you want me to fetch while I'm at it, _master_?"

"No. I don't think you understand how the command 'stay' works."

Tony barked for dramatic effect. "Fine. Just hurry up, I think Mackenzlie needs to go to the bathroom."

Steve made a face and sincerely hoped Mackenzlie's 'bathroom' was not his lover's head. Stepping out of the room, he hurried down the hallway, hoping Tony could be still and hold his own for just five minutes.

When he got back, however, Tony was laying on the floor next to the couch, holding up Mackenzlie like she was Simba, laughing his head off.

"Um," Steve started, trying to figure out what went so terribly wrong in the three seconds he was out. "Tony…are you drunk?"

The laughing increased in tempo. "Lil' bit, yeah," he said, poking Mackenzlie on the nose and collapsing into another round of giggles.

"But…I don't even.."

"Asguardian ale. I think it takes awhile to kick in."

"Oh." So it was Thor's freaky other-worldly alcohol that left Tony in a heap on the floor, singing the Lion King song softly to a bunny in a party hat. Steve _knew_ he shouldn't have let Tony drink at his party.

"You are never drinking again, you understand that, right?" Steve said conversationally, picking Tony and his bunny up off the floor and setting him back on the spacious couch into a dignified sitting position. "Ever."

"Nuh," Tony protested, rather eloquently. "Birthday today. Alcoholic tendencies tomorrow," he breathed, breath smelling slightly like alcohol but mostly peppermint, catching hold of the front of Steve's shirt and not letting go. "So. Where's my present?"

Steve scrunched up his face in confusion. "The Asguardian ale is made of mint and it made you like this?"

Tony looked rather upset, and yanked down on Steve's shirt to indicate his unhappiness. "Alcohol _tomorrow_. Birthday _today_," he reminded Steve, speaking to him like he was a small child. "So. Present?"

Steve took a deep breath. "Well, I wasn't expecting you to be drunk when I did this, but…" he trailed off, gently untangling Tony's fingers from his shirt and straightening it, clearing his throat. "Look at my head."

Tony (surprisingly) did as he was told. And then promptly fell off the couch laughing again.

"Damn, Steve, you're adorable," he coughed out, between fits of laughter, his eyes bright and smile wide. "Best present all day."

(Alcohol tended to do one of two things to Tony: make him surprisingly affectionate, or even more of a snarky bastard. Steve was going to have to ask Thor to replace all of Tony's scotch with this scary Asguardian drink.)

Steve bent down to retrieve Mackenzlie from Tony's hands, who looked rather displeased and rumpled from the fall and set her gently on the coffee table with a head pat. "I'm glad you like it. It's one of a kind, you know."

Tony smirked. "I know," he murmured, grabbing hold of Steve's shirt again and trying unsuccessfully to pull him down to the floor with him. "And you're gonna keep the bow on top of your head the entire time we do this."

Steve had the decency to pretend to be appalled. "You're drunk, Tony. We aren't doing this when you can't even count to five."

"My mental capacities are running at full function," Tony retorted, slurring the big words and looking put out. "And, anyway, Clint gave us such a nice present I figure we should start to use it." Tony's hands yanked harder on Steve's clothes, throwing off his balance a bit. "So come here."

Now Steve really was appalled. "We aren't doing this _here_!" he hissed, looking around the room frantically. "What if someone walks in?"

"Oh, they'll probably just be glad you're putting their gift to good use," Clint said, voice smug, as he dropped down from a ceiling rafter. "Glad to see you're enjoying it, Captain." After making Steve satisfactorily red, he turned to Tony who was still on the floor with a frown.

"I know Asguardian ale is a helluva beer, but how much_ did_ you drink? You can't even count to five!"

"Can too!" Tony whined, still not bothering to sit up. "Just don't wanna. Now leave. I'm trying to have dirty birthday sex on the floor."

Steve was crimson by this point which amused Clint to no end. "All right. Just go somewhere else to do it before your boyfriend has an aneurysm."

"Sir yes sir," Tony called in mock salute to Clint's retreating back. "Can you…can you help me up?" he asked, turning his eyes to Steve who had buried his head in his hands. "Can't seem to get up from here."

Steve let out a muffled groan into his hands. "You have no sense of politeness. You can stay on the floor, and I'm going to go apologize to Clint for your terrible behavior."

"He started it, and besides, I'm drunk!" Tony pointed out, evidently thinking this was a clever rebuttal, his smile devilish. "Now get down here and screw me into the floor."

"_No!_ You are terrible. I'm leaving," Steve said, going to get up off the couch, when nimble fingers snaked themselves around his ankle. He looked down to see pleading eyes and the beginnings of a pout.

"No you aren't. I'm irresistible."

"Here comes the ego."

"I don't have a big ego! I just know the truth! And I'm really getting slightly impatient and turned on down here so if you could just lean down and press your lips to mine, that would be great."

Steve groaned and rubbed his face. "I don't need this," he muttered into his palms with a shake of his head. "I really, really don't. Okay, I'll lean down there, but it's to pick you up. Your ass is going to bed."

"Nuuuh," Tony protested as Steve scooped him up easily in his arms. "I'm not tired."

"Too bad. You're going to bed and I'm going to leave you there."

Tony just smirked at that. When they got to their room, Steve sat Tony gently down on the bed and kneeled to remove his shoes. "Now, go to sleep."

"How can I with you down on your knees like that?"

Steve sighed. "Stop. Now go to sleep while I go find Clint."

Tony laid down, but grabbed the shirttails of Steve's clothes when he went to walk away. "Please, stay with me," he whispered to him, pulling gently on the shirt. "Please."

Steve crumbled, his resistance broken, and followed Tony back into bed. "Fine. But we aren't doing it, I'm warning you," he said, using his authoritative voice. "I'm serious. I'm only staying because its your birthday."

"Okay," Tony sighed into Steve's chest where he was currently curled up, one arm over Steve's torso and the other stuck between Steve in the bed.

Steve smiled at Tony, who burrowed into Steve like he was a warm blanket, all affectionate and sweet, albeit drunk. Steve smoothed back his partner's hair and whispered soothing things, hoping Tony would fall asleep so he could go apologize. He really was mortified (but a little amused) by his boyfriend's bad manners.

(That's what he gets for dating a Stark, he guesses. They're not really big on the whole subtle thing.)

"This is the greatest birthday I've ever had," Tony whispered, pulling Steve as close as he could possibly get them and breathing softly onto his chest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Steve murmured back, a little surprised at Tony's gratitude, but nonetheless pleased that he'd liked it so much. "I try."

"Yeah," Tony mumbled sleepily into Steve, his eyes slowly drooping shut. "Love you."

"Yeah," Steve whispered back, running his hands absently through Tony's soft, dark hair. "Happy Birthday."

(They stayed like that for a long time, curled up into one another, Tony sleeping and Steve threading his fingers into his hair.)

(It was the perfect ending to a pretty good, if not slightly strange day.)

(And it was the best one Tony could remember in a long, long time.)

* * *

"Hey, Steve?" Tony rasped, shaking his partner gently awake. "Where did we leave Mackenzlie?"

Steve woke up and shook his head, trying to clear the fog sleep had left behind, before he looked to see the rabbit hutch in the corner empty.

"Shit."

* * *

To be continued!


	3. A Snuggie Might Be Best

Inspired by the avengersheadcanons submission #1233 on Tumblr, "Steve is always cold."

* * *

"Tony."

The moonlight filtered in through the open window, shadows dancing a soft ballet across Steve's face as he leaned slightly over Tony, his hands on Tony's bare shoulders, shaking him slightly.

"Nnghh," Tony responded intelligently, burrowing his face into the long, fluffy red pillow underneath his neck.

"_Tony_." Steve tried again, his voice shaking like his hands and the desperation leaking in. The tone, so wobbly and terrified, stirred Tony enough to crack open one dark eye, only to have both fly open in shock at Steve's face.

From the faint glow of the arc reactor, Tony could see the shimmering blue of his partner's eyes were crazed and confused looking, like a wild animal trapped in a cage. He looked so broken, so r_attled_- and Tony expected the shaking on his shoulders to fade when he woke, but the shaking came from Steve's hands and was steadily increasing in speed.

"J- JARVIS, lights," Tony ordered, his voice uncertain and slightly confused, as he sat up gently, flipping dark locks from his eyes and tenderly removing Steve's hands from his shoulders to hold them in his own. Tony took a moment to admire the scene, Steve's pale, long fingers cradled in his smaller, darker ones, like an analogy for night and day. Blinking sleepiness from his eyes, Tony glanced up through his lashes from their entangled hands to Steve's face, his alarm intensifying as he studied it in the fierce fluorescent light.

"Shit, Steve," he breathed, removing one of his hands from Steve's grasp to press it to his lover's face, flinching at the chilliness of his skin. "You look terrible." The man sitting on the bed directly in front of him with his legs crossed, body tensed, looked nothing like the icon America adored. He appeared tiny, and helpless, eyes darting side to side and his body shivering at impossible speeds. His strong walls had crumbled, crashing into hard pavement, and all that remained was broken pieces of brick and rubble.

And it was fucking terrifying to Tony, who had no idea what to do.

(How do you put back together the pieces of the wall that holds you up?)

Steve didn't have any smartass remark to shoot back at Tony, only sat there and shook, breathing rapidly becoming faster to the point of hyperventilation.

Dark eyes wide now, laced with concern and fear, Tony moved his hands around to the back of Steve's neck and pulled him close to his warm body, unceremoniously dragging himself onto Steve's lap. When Steve made no move to respond other than to bury his face into Tony's muscled shoulder with a choked, broken sound that sounded like a sob, Tony tangled his nimble fingers into Steve's disheveled blonde locks and began to whisper in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "C'mere now, come here," he whispered into Steve's ear, lovingly stroking his hair and rocking back and forth. 'It's okay now, I'm here. It's okay."

"I'm- I'm so cold," Steve gasped out into Tony's shoulder, shuddering like he'd been dunked in ice water on the word c_old_. "So cold.."

"JARVIS. Heat," Tony snapped at the computer, moving one hand to rub small circles on Steve's neck. "Now."

"Sir, I think you will find that it is summertime and very warm-"

"_Heat,_ JARVIS!" Tony barked, grinding his teeth a little in frustration. He was at a loss on what was happening, or what he should be doing about it, and he was _not_ about to argue with a computer he designed on his own while he was holding one Steve Rogers who was about to cause a major earthquake with the amount of shaking he was currently doing.

When he heard the telltale sound of the vents kicking up, he pulled back from Steve's ear and grabbed his face gently, trying to get his lover to look him in the eyes to judge if he was about to fall all to bits. "There we are. JARVIS got the heat kicked up, you can use me as your own personal body blanket, all is right in Captainworld. You good?"

Steve, however, refused to meet Tony's eyes and looked down at the rich, red colored duvet, his lips moving but not a single word coming out. He managed to rasp a tiny "s_orry_" before a single tear dripped down his cold face, landing and making a small mark on the comforter beside his foot.

(If Tony was at a loss before, he certainly didn't know what to do now.)

"Steve? Hey, hey there. Look at me. Meet my irresistible, sexy eyes, and tell me what's wrong," Tony said, his voice quivering slightly as more tears dripped onto the comforter, crisscrossing each other like a sad monument to pain and suffering.

"Don't…don't be cry," Tony offered up helplessly, snaking a finger under Steve's rumpled hair to wipe a tear off of his cheek. His voice grew soft as he left the finger there, stroking the soft, perfect face beneath it. "Please."

Steve sniffled and opened his mouth again, words slowly forming on his paper thin lips, rising slowly to the surface before cresting and tumbling out all at once. Taking a shallow breath, Steve began to speak (albeit softly- Tony had to lean closer to catch all the words) but at least he was talking.

"I was..asleep. For seventy years. In a little slab of ice beneath the ocean." The words spilled out, and Steve trembled like he'd been slapped, while Tony watched and listened in distress and concern. "Every time I go to sleep or- or sit still for too long, I can feel the, the _ice_ and it's. I'm always so cold," he trailed off, burying his head into Tony's shoulder. "Freezing," he gasped into the thin material of Tony's black muscle top, the shaking getting so bad the entire bed moved beneath them. Tony sat in shock for a few moments, feeling dots of wetness appear on the skin of his shoulder, before hesitantly moving his fingers tenderly back into Steve's hair and murmuring quietly.

"Look, there's nothing to be afraid of here, Cap," he said into Steve's pale ear, moving his fingers and his lips faster as the shaking began to die down. "I'm here, and I've got you, and I'm not going to let you go. Ever. Got that?"

Steve entire body shook roughly one last time as he let out a soft sob into Tony's shoulder. Not getting a reply, the dark haired man pulled back and gently grabbed Steve's chin, forcing his tear streaked blue eyes up to stare into worried chocolate ones. "Got that?"

"Got it," Steve whispered back, voice rough like sandpaper and more tired than Tony had ever heard him.

"Good," Tony muttered, pulling Steve back into his shoulder to rub his back soothingly. Whispering a command of "Lights." To JARVIS who obediently dimmed them, Tony maneuvered Steve back into the bed, pushing down on his chest to get him into a laying position. After making sure Steve was satisfactorily settled, Tony laid down next to him, stretching his legs out to make up for the height difference, assuring sure their bodies touched everywhere he could manage it. Pressing a soft kiss to Steve's head, he wrapped his arms around Steve like a cocoon, and settled down for the night.

(Long after Steve started breathing heavily and his eyes drooped forward, Tony watched him sleep by the glow of the arc reactor and wondered what was happening behind those pale closed eyelids.)

(He didn't think it was pleasant.)

* * *

When morning rolled around, and Tony cracked open an eye only to groan in misery, his mouth dry from sleeping with his mouth open all night, pushing himself against the covers trying to separate himself from Steve and the overbearing heat of the room. The sweltering warmth from the heater mixed with the intertwined bodies in the bed left both of them drenched in sweat, sticky and hot all over. After rudely shaking Steve awake (he was suffocating under the man's overly-muscular body) and dragging him by the hand to take a lukewarm shower (he wanted cold, but didn't think that would go over too well with his lover, so he deals.)

(Because isn't that what relationships were all about?)

When they had finished drying each other off and ambled into the living room, hands linked, they didn't speak of the night before.

(They just looked at each other.)

(Actions spoke louder than words, especially concerning Captain America and Iron Man.)

But, later on as the day drifted into a lazy afternoon and they lay in the sun, watching some forties movie on the giant TV screen in the den, elbows touching, and Steve whispers and almost inaudible "thank you, Tony," Tony doesn't even ask.

Just smiles and hands Steve a blanket.

(Later on that evening, as Natasha and Bruce sit across from them playing cards, and Tony notices Steve start to shiver slightly so he grabs the discarded blanket from earlier and drapes it across Steve's lap, he pauses to think.)

(Later on that evening, as Natasha and Bruce sit across from them playing some card game he doesn't really understand but seems to be winning at, if their expressions of disdain are any indicator, and Steve suddenly has a blanket draped over him when he didn't even realize he was shivering, he pauses to think.)

(At the same time, they both think: _Is this love?)_

(At the same time, when the look at each other and smile, Steve's blue eyes sparkling happily and Tony's eyes crinkling, they think, _yes._)

* * *

Thanks for reading!


	4. Where Have All The Avengers Gone?

Steve bustled about the thirtieth floor, picking up the odd discarded sweatshirt here and a random box of pizza there. It was really strange how they worked, him and Tony- Tony was in the kitchen, scraping the burnt remains of a blender off of the ceiling, while he'd ambled meekly back to their room and tried not to catch anything on fire again. As he picked up around their bedroom, though, he couldn't help but thinking about how it all started, this…thing they had. And also how messy his boyfriend is.

As he ponders balconies and shattered windows, he curiously picks up a discarded hoodie, lovingly thrown on the floor near Tony's overly-spacious closet. Dirtied by what looked like years of motor oil and misuse, it looked to have been red when it began its long, cotton life, he flips it over to see the front.

It had a startlingly familiar shield on it. With a star smack dab in the middle.

For a moment, Steve feels like laughing, and then he feels like crying, because it's clear that this hoodie had seen years beyond the short time Steve and Tony had known one another, and even less in the time they had become…a thing, this together, almost functional beautiful _thing_ that follows no normal relationship rules. So they call it a thing, and it works.

Eyeing the sweatshirt, he turns it over and over in his strong hands, admiring the faded, grimy red against his sooty, normally pale fingers. He suddenly thinks of Howard Stark, and the man he knew him as. And then the man Tony knew him as, and somehow, he just knows that Tony grew up being dwarfed by the giant of Captain America and in that moment he feels slight nausea and the worst guilt he thinks he's ever felt in his life.

(Tony's father was too busy being hung-up on a supersoldier to care for his son.)

(The son which said supersoldier was now dating. And making scrape blender pieces off the kitchen surfaces.)

(Ain't life fun?)

The guilt becoming overwhelming now, Steve gently set the Febreeze he was spraying onto a particularly foul pair of jeans he had found and twirled the Captain America hoodie around with his hand idly, looking at in disdain. Torn between (after a proper Febreezing) throwing it under the bed or possibly cleaning it up and hanging it nicely in the closet and hope Tony doesn't say anything, he finally sighs and realizes he probably should talk to Tony about it and make sure Steve's existence wasn't one of the leading factors in his bad childhood.

Holding the hoodie at arms-length because it honestly smelled like a sweaty robot (a little like Tony when he hadn't showered after a long day in the lab) and giving it a once down with his Febreeze, he set off into the kitchen, long legs bringing him there rather quickly and also stopping abruptly when he realized his dark-haired lover was no longer standing on the counter with a washrag to reach the ceiling. There was a distinct lack of Tony in the kitchen at all, actually, and Steve tsked when he noticed the black marks still on the ceiling and across the counter.

_I'm a terrible cook and my boyfriend is a lazy bastard,_ Steve thought to himself, looking shamefully at the chrome finish of the counters he probably flamed to death trying to make toast. Straining his ears for any sound of the suddenly missing Tony (he probably wouldn't _stay_ missing, big things tended to happen with Tony Stark around), he picked up the light plinkplinkplinking of a piano coming from a room at the end of the hall he'd never bothered to check out. Curious now, his feet made their own little trail with no help from his brain into the Room At The End Of The Hall, as he decided to call it for about fifteen seconds, if only for the dramatic flair.

And then he steps into the room, and Tony and Bruce are singing.

And Tony is playing the piano.

And it sounds beautiful, almost hauntingly so, the pair singing together. Tony's quick, tan fingers fly over the ivory in a complicated dance Steve's baby blues can't even hope to follow, the music swelling and falling until it reaches an almost unbearable crescendo, on which the two men finish the song, giving each other satisfied, sated smiles like they'd just beaten the world.

Until Steve clears his throat, leaning awkwardly against the metallic doorframe, and Bruce turns the color of a tomato and excuses himself from the room. Tony's eyes follow Banner out the door, his face still wearing a smile, when he turns his head back to the piano and starts to play a few soft keys. Glancing up at Steve through dark lashes, Tony wolf whistles, his grin turning into a wide smirk. "Well, hello there sexy," he greets Steve, patting empty seat on the piano bench beside him. "C'mon, sit!"

After a moment of debate and prodding from Tony, Steve makes a face at the grimy hoodie he was still clutching between his fingers, and throws it behind him nonchalantly with an unnerving, lopsided smile, hoping Tony didn't notice. Wiping the oil smugdes from his fingertips into his too-tight jeans, he crosses the room, bare feet sinking into to the plush, white carper before taking a seat on the black piano bench Tony is poised upon. It feels different, somehow, than other pianos, like plastic and glass and metal all at once, the sounds reminescient of howling ghosts and laughing children.

Breathing an unsteady breath when Tony's fingers begin to fly across the keys again, he murmurs, "Since when did you play the piano?"

"The Other Guy likes it," Tony supplied, looking away from the ivory keys to give Steve a smile. "But if you want to argue with him, be my guest."

Steve is momentarily horrified at the thought of disagreeing with Big, Mean and Green. "No thanks. I'm good. But I meant, when did you start playing?"

The tempo of the song slowly decreases, before becoming only a few light notes filtering throughout the room (which Steve has renamed from The Room At The End of the Hall to the Music Room, due to the sheer amount of instruments and sheet music spread across the carpets and black leather furniture).

After a long pause in which Steve can almost hear the gears turning in Tony's head, Tony shoots him a look over his shoulder and smiles a thin smile that really isn't there at all. "You know how…when as a kid, you'd get lonely, and build yourself from friends?"

The implications of that sentence hit Steve heavily in the gut like a well-thrown punch and he thinks briefly of the abandoned Captain America hoodie in the hall. "Not….exactly?" He replied, seeing the expectant set of Tony's face and realizing he wanted an answer. "But by all means, continue."

"Well…after I had finished working on the blueprints for DUM-E, I flicked the TV on to see someone playing the piano and thought, "Man, I could never do that." To which I quickly rethought that I was motherfucking Tony Stark and if I wanted to play the piano, I damn well could. So. I build one."

Steve is fazed by the knowledge that Tony created this haunting instrument, running a light finger across the wood/metal/glass of the exterior and breathing in through his teeth. "You got bored. And then build a piano."

"Sounds about right," Tony replies flippantly, starting the beginning notes of a song again as Steve stares in bafflement. "See? The Stark Industries logo is right here. Stark issued, Stark approved," he says cheerfully, motioning with his head toward the top of the piano and there it was, a small little logo, and Steve is beyond amazed. "I keep trying to convince the instrument making industry to let me Stark Up some of their equipment, but they just think I'm doing it for press reasons, I think."

Steve is still hung up on the fact that Tony designed and build all of these things. "And how old were you?"

"Um. Ten or eleven, maybe."

Steve has to pick his jaw up off the floor, snapping it back on with a pop of disbelief as Tony begins singing softly along to a folk song he thinks he recognizes from Movie/Music Mondays, when him and Bruce and Thor and whoever else they can rope into it watch movies the trio have missed and listen to music as suggested by team members.

Looking up from the fragile waltz Tony's fingers have picked up on the keys, he scans the room, seeing several other instruments designed in a fashion similar to the piano. "And, those, too? You designed all of these?"

Tony nods, focusing on the music. "A whole band's worth," he interjects randomly, before halting his fingers and looking at Steve with an alarmingly devilish smile.

"I've got a whole band's worth of instruments just sitting here."

Suddenly, between the inky black of the piano and the huge smile on Tony's face, the kind that crinkle at his eyes, Steve thinks he may have just given Tony a really, really bad idea.

* * *

It is with much bribery and open-ended threats to pull his tech from SHIELD that it goes unnoticed that when anytime the semi-famous cover band, Stark Naked, plays a gig, all of the Avengers go missing.

Even Nick Fury.

* * *

I think Tony would be a wonderful pianst. Now I want to go learn to play the piano! (The song folk song that Steve somewhat recognizes Tony playing is Where Have All The Flowers Gone by Peter, Paul and Mary. I was going to write that in but couldn't make it flow well with the story.)

Stark Naked's Band Lineup:

Lead Vocals: Bruce Banner and Pepper Potts  
Guitar: Natasha Romanoff  
Bass: Clint Barton  
Drums: Thor Odinson  
Piano and Backup Vocals: Tony Stark  
Electric triangle and Backup Vocals: Steve Rogers  
The Recorder: Nick Fury  
Ocassional Background Dancer Who Resembles a Stripper: Maria Hill

Of course, they all have stage names, and Tony insists on being called Big Daddy, but no one ever really does. Except for Nick.

By the way, if any of you guys need writing ideas, go check out theavengersheadcanons on Tumblr. It really gets the creative juices a'flowing.

Thanks for reading!


End file.
